


Following Through

by celeste9



Series: Promise [3]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Companionable Snark, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker always keeps his promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following Through

James sighed when his mobile rang. Five minutes of peace, was that really so much to ask? He glanced at the caller ID before picking it up. "What do you want, Becker? I don't have time for games."

"Is that any way to treat your lover, James? You might make me think you don't want to talk to me." Becker's mock wounded tone held just enough of a hint of sincerity that James knew he must have come across harsher than he'd meant.

"I'm sorry, darling, you know you're the light of my life," he said, earning a laugh. "I've just got out of a meeting with Burton and you know that always puts me in a foul mood."

"Yes, I know, that's actually why I called. I thought I'd cheer you up."

Although he was a bit afraid to ask, James went ahead anyway. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"I was thinking that perhaps it's time I made good on my promise. As you know, my leave's nearly up, so I thought I'd use the extra key I snuck from your flat-- shocking, I know, but it was just sitting there in the drawer-- and let myself in later so I can be there when you get home."

"And?" James prompted when Becker seemed inclined to stop there.

"And then I'm going to fuck you," Becker said, sounding very satisfied with himself.

"What makes you think I want you to?"

"Please. You're getting hard just thinking about it."

Damn him. James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. So what if he was? It wasn't fair, the way Becker was speaking in that low, throaty voice he used when he-- "Are you touching yourself?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Becker purred.

James closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. It really wasn't fair. He looked up to see Lorraine outside the door, her hand raised in mid-air, about to knock. He held up one finger. "I've got to go. I'll be home early as I can."

"See you then, love," Becker's voice drifted over the line before James hung up and waved in Lorraine and her stack of file folders. He discretely knocked on the top of his desk as he set the phone down-- it wasn't wood, but it would have to do. The end of the day couldn't come soon enough and James wasn't taking any chances.

-

Becker was in Lester's bed with a book when he heard the click of a key turning in the lock and the door opening. He stuffed the book in the bedside table and then eased into a casual sprawl.

"Becker?" came Lester's cautious voice. "Are you here?"

"In the bedroom, James."

The sound of Lester's light footsteps across the floor preceded him to the bedroom door. Although Lester's expression didn't change, Becker noticed the way his gaze flickered down to Becker's crotch and the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "I have to say I never expected you to be waiting in my bed. Naked, no less. I suppose it's a good thing you're due to return to the ARC as clearly you have nothing to occupy your time."

"Who says I wasn't occupied?" Becker said, purposely letting a lascivious tone creep into his voice and letting his hand fall between his spread thighs.

Lester coughed. "Aren't you even going to offer me dinner first?"

"Get on the fucking bed, James. You're not fooling anyone."

With swift, efficient movements, Lester changed out of his suit and carefully draped it over the chair before settling himself on the bed. Lester wasted no time in pressing his mouth to Becker's and for long moments they traded kisses.

Becker stroked his hands over the soft skin of Lester's narrow waist. "Mmm, hello, darling."

"Now you're polite," Lester said, and licked Becker's neck.

"Because now you're doing what I want. Ow!" he exclaimed as Lester bit him harder than necessary.

"I was under the impression that this was supposed to be about me, so what do you say we do what I want?"

With a thrust of his hips and a twist, Becker had Lester on his back looking up, his hair mussed. "I aim to please," Becker said and scattered kisses down Lester's chest. He stopped to suck one of Lester's nipples between his teeth, flicking the other with his fingertips. He could feel Lester's hands as they hovered just over his skin, fluttering over his back, up into his hair, and then down again.

Becker moved further down so he could lick a stripe up Lester's cock and kiss the head. He settled back on his heels, one hand cradling Lester's balls, and took a moment to watch his lover-- the flush of his pale skin, the arch of his neck, his hands fisting at his sides, the way he was biting his lip. Becker crawled forward, letting his cock drag against Lester's skin, and spoke softly in Lester's ear. "Relax, James. Stop trying so hard. Don't be so quiet, just let go."

Lester's breath hitched and he said, "Becker," needy and with none of his customary control.

Becker kissed his neck. "Better, darling." He rubbed his hands over the tense muscles of Lester's shoulders and thought perhaps Lester might like a massage, but it would have to wait till later-- Becker was feeling just selfish enough to not want to delay things and he thought they'd progressed far enough already that Lester might not want to be sidetracked either.

He found the lubricant where he'd placed it beside the bed and twisted the cap off, dripping some onto his fingers. Then he waited, looking at Lester spread out on the bed.

"Would you like a manual, Becker? Have you forgotten what goes where?"

"I can't decide how I want you. I must admit that the idea of you on your hands and knees with your arse in the air is incredibly appealing, but then if you're on your back I can watch your face while I make you come."

Even though Lester was frowning sternly, his eyes betrayed him-- Becker knew Lester loved it when he talked dirty. "There's that ego again."

"Well, I am very good," Becker said and inserted one finger into Lester, earning a tiny moan. "I think you agree, don't you, James?"

"As if I'm going to-- oh," Lester trailed off and his eyes rolled back in his head as Becker scissored his fingers and hit Lester's prostate.

"You definitely agree," Becker said, mostly fond but, yes, maybe a little smug as well. He watched Lester's emotions play across his features and decided this really was the best way to go about it the first time. He'd wanted to have Lester this way for months, since before he even knew how he really felt, and he wanted to make the most of it.

"Oh, fuck, Hils--"

"I knew you could say it, if properly motivated."

Becker was rather impressed with the amount of aggravation Lester managed to convey with three fingers up his arse. "Fucking do it already, won't you, Hilary?" he said pointedly.

Becker smirked and leaned down for a kiss, and Lester sank his teeth into Becker's lower lip. Drawing back, Becker licked the drop of blood from his lip. "And you say I'm impatient." But his own cock was throbbing so he spread Lester's thighs just a bit wider and pushed in slowly so he could absorb every sensation of it, his cock enveloped by Lester's tight flesh, Lester's mouth parted and his eyes half-closed. "Fuck," he said articulately, and drew out slightly so he could push back in, watching himself disappear into Lester's body.

Lester grabbed Becker's arse and arched his own hips up, attempting to force the pace. "Stop trying to top for once," Becker said and curled his hand around Lester's cock. Lester sighed and squeezed Becker's arse, lying back against the mattress and allowing Becker to take the lead again. Becker was making every effort to focus on Lester instead of himself, cataloguing every bit-back cry and every small twitch and shudder, keeping his hand moving on Lester's cock and trying to hit just the right spot with every thrust. He wanted Lester to enjoy it; he wanted to do this again.

Becker reached back to take hold of one of Lester's wrists, wrapping Lester's fingers around his own cock. With both his hands now free, Becker lifted Lester's hips up a bit to change the angle. He pulled back and slammed forward, quickening the pace, knocking the headboard against the wall. Lester's eyes were closed, his breath stuttering, his hand brushing against Becker's stomach as it slid up and down over his cock.

Becker braced himself on his forearms, his head falling forward, and felt Lester's breath puff against his cheek. "Come on, James, let go. Come for me, sweetheart," he urged, and Lester dug his nails into Becker's back.

"Hils," he said with a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan, and with a flick of his fingertips he came, turning his face to the side as if he could hide his reaction in the pillow.

Feeling a rush of affection for this proud and private man, Becker pressed kisses against all the skin he could reach. His head filled with all the soppy, nonsense things he felt but never said, but it was probably for the best that he seemed to be beyond coherent speech at the moment. He thrust in and out through the aftershocks of Lester's orgasm, feeling the pressure on his cock.

"God, James," he said, his forehead sinking onto Lester's shoulder, and reached his climax with Lester's hands hot on his skin and Lester's legs hooked around his waist. When he'd caught his breath, he said, "I knew you'd love it if I fucked you."

He felt more than heard Lester's reluctant laugh. "As if I'd ever admit to it."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you don't need to. I didn't quite get the scream I wanted, but we can work on that." Lester's come was sticky between them so Becker dragged the end of the sheet over to wipe it up.

"Becker, that's revolting," Lester protested. "We've got to sleep on that."

In response, Becker tugged the sheet out and tossed it over the side of the bed.

Lester swatted the back of his head. "Oh, because that's so much better."

Becker ignored him and curled around Lester's body, feeling a bone-deep sense of satisfaction. Nothing was going to drag him off this bed.

"Now are you going to make me dinner?"

"Fuck you, James," Becker mumbled against his chest. "Make it yourself."

"I'll just call in for Chinese then, shall I?" Lester said and Becker grunted an affirmative.

But Lester made no attempt to move and Becker was quite content where he was. Lester's hand crept up to the back of Becker's head to brush through his short hair and Becker hummed a bit in pleasure. "In a minute," Lester said, and that was just fine with Becker.

_**End** _


End file.
